Terrifying minds think similarly
by Guardian Number 6
Summary: Horrible name, I know. And quite unfitting... What happens when Squee's insane cousin comes for a visit? I own nothing other than Trix. Possible Nny x OC down the road. T for language and depicted violence. R&R, please!
1. Weird out thy neighbor's cousin

_That was it. This had to be my final warning sign. As I slowly put down the knife I had threatened my mother with, I realized what I had just done. I had threatened to kill the woman who gave me my own life. I didn't feel any guilt, but I knew that I couldn't make it on my own. Sure, I had caught myself by thinking of the consequences, but I knew that I needed help. My mother knew I needed it too, but this was too much to ignore anything crazy I did, for any longer. She stared at me.  
>"You'd kill your own mother?"<br>I don't think I imagined the cracking I recognized as being near tears. My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe it either. I was horrified with myself. I was normally so much more careful to not show my urge to kill around others.  
>"Beatrix..." my mother tried again. Obviously this was major; she only used my full name when the situation was dire.<br>My legs gave out. She could hear the sobs, but no one was allowed to see my cry. Ever. I could only imagine how cliché this looked. A girl, about 21, dropped to her knees, bawling, face buried in her small, pale hands. _

Ugh. A flashback of **that** experience was the last thing I needed. Especially as I unsuccessfully tried to sleep. I knew better than to have caffeine before bed- didn't help with the insomnia I suffered, anyway- but I was **addicted**. That's when I realized I hadn't taken my medication. I rolled my eyes at myself before I got up.

I had to be careful not to wake anyone as I made my way to the bathroom. My mother had gone bungee jumping a few months ago…not smart when you have my family's luck. I clearly couldn't be left alone at a time like this, and had been forced to live with my aunt (my mother was a teen when I was conceived. Nothing like knowing you're a mistake), uncle and 7-year-old cousin, Todd.

I scanned through the medication bottles in my basket. I saw the numerous hand sanitizers and pulled out my disinfectant hand spray, squirting it twice and rubbing my hands together. My hypochondria was the least of my worries, being sociopathic was worse. Paranoia wasn't the best, either. But my insomnia was pretty hard. I finally found the bottle I was looking for.  
><strong>God, what is that blaring? <strong>My mind screamed at me. **Oh…** I realized something. My earphones, the ones I tended to use at night, were still in my ears. "Let my people go" from The Prince of Egypt was the current song. I paused it. I felt the need for silence at the moment. My eyes scanned the room; and I noticed the window was unlocked. Seriously? I had heard of the murders that went on around here, was my family crazier than I was? I rolled my eyes (again) and locked it quickly.

I tip-toed back to the pull-out couch I was sleeping on that night. I lay down and pulled the covers up to my chin.

Knock, knock…

I sighed. My mind was up to its old tricks again, I guessed. I hallucinated often; mostly when I didn't sleep…so, being an insomniac, it happened a lot. I turned on my iPod. I put it on a volume that most would identify as silent, but it blared in my tiny ears.

CRASH!

OKAY, there was no ignoring THAT one. Shattering glass, that was a new one.  
><strong>Might as well write that down in the morning. <strong>I thought to myself, predicting that this was all my imagination.

…

Okay, might as well check anyways, what else was there to do? I peered around the dark room for my bag. I saw it almost immediately. I searched through for my mace. I found the hand gun I took with me everywhere. I shrugged and grabbed that too- if there really **was** something in there, I wasn't taking any chances. Death was my biggest fear, and I definitely wouldn't face it as long as I could resist.

I cracked open the door I had exited from not two minutes ago. Well, let's just say I was taken by surprise. I quietly opened it further, stepping in.

_**Nny's POV**_

…Whose medications were these? There had to be at least 6 bottles here! That's when I found what I had been looking for. Yeesh, there was a lot of that too. And now that I thought about it, I hadn't noticed this basket before, either. I looked at one of the prescription bottles.  
>"Beatrix McDonald" was the name. I hadn't seen this name before…I had seen Squee's mother's meds, but that wasn't her name.<br>I was distracted by an obnoxious-sounding throat clearing. I looked in the mirror in front of me, to see a small, feminine figure watching me, wide-eyed. I spun to face her.  
>Mistake.<p>

"Hah!" She screamed, raising an arm to reveal a bottle that read "bear repellent". It sprayed in my eyes, and let's just say that it didn't feel great.  
>"Oh, wrong bottle" I heard her mumble.<br>"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" I demanded, thriving in pain.  
>"Who are <em>you?" <em>she turned it on me.  
>"I asked you first." I growled.<br>"I have legal access to this property, you've broken and entered and, well, let's face the facts. I have a gun." She growled back.  
>We were both silent for a moment.<br>"…Who are you?" she asked again, sounding calmer.  
>"I still asked you first." I looked at her. My eyes still stung, but not nearly as bad as before.<br>She sighed. "Beatrix. But call me that and I spray you with mace- not as painful, but still hurts quite a bit, trust me. Call me Trix, most do."  
>"…I suppose this medication belongs to you then?"<br>"Yes. I am the psychopath who needs all of this. Now please, tell me who the _fuck_ you are before I shoot you in the kneecap." She growled. I would have smirked if I hadn't been wondering if my eyeballs were melting inside my head.  
>"Johnny. But we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other. Call me Nny." I responded.<br>"Oh great; I'll be tortured like this _again?_ Oh, what fun that'll be." She rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

This was finally when I got a good look at her. She was, well, short and thin although…I had to admit that she had a larger bust and wider hips than most girls. Her eyes were a dark shade of brown, her irises smaller than most. She had an ivory shade of skin. Her hair was wavy and a medium brown. I would have smirked at her outfit if I hadn't been wondering why she was…here. She wore gray and black plaid Joe-Boxer-style PJ pants that read "MUSKOKA WOODS EXPERIENCE" in white down her left leg, a purple t-shirt that read "Phoenix, Arizona. Valley of the Sun." and a yellow Aeropostale hoodie, with a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks- one blue with purple and white stripes, the other white with a red heel and toes. She had a gun in her right hand, the bear repellent on the ground next to her. I considered taking it, spraying it in her own eyes, shooting her and running with a few bottles of bactine, but, well, Squee probably wouldn't have liked that.

Oh, that reminded me.  
>"You wouldn't happen to know what happened to the little boy living here, would you?" I asked, now curious about why she was here, hoping this would give me an answer.<br>"Oh, Todd? He's still here, I'm his older cousin. Wait! How do you…?" she trailed off.  
>"Long story. I'd better go. I'm so awake…I need to leave." I told her, worried about what I might do otherwise.<br>"WAIT!" She yelled. I turned.  
>"…What exactly did you come here for? Just too randomly read my medications? Doubtful" she glared at me.<br>"Oh right, thank you. Bactine? Some of this blood is actually mine…some people put up a struggle, y'know?"  
>"Uh, no I don't know. But here, take some." She handed me a large bottle. "I've been meaning to get more anyway." She added. I started to walk out again.<br>"WAIT!" she snapped again.  
>"WHAT?" I asked too loudly.<br>"SHH!" she shushed me. "2 things. 1, you're paying for that window, one way or another. 2, how exactly do you suggest that I explain the busted window to my aunt and uncle? Huh?" she whispered harshly.  
>"1, yes, I will. 2, no clue. Ask Squee, he explained last time someone made the stupid mistake of locking it. Guess he didn't warn you, huh? Or were you just too stupid to remember?"<br>"I'll have you know that I'm a near-genius. And who is Squee? Some figure of your imagination? Oh Squee, what do I do?" she snapped. This girl was really starting to enrage me.  
>"I guess you'd call him…Todd. I'd suggest that you don't lock this window ever again. Maybe next time I won't wake you." I kept my words cool and clipped to avoid screaming them and waking the entire household.<br>"Well, that'll save me from having to make up a new excuse for the window being broken." She sighed.  
>Neither of us said another word before I climbed out the window.<p>

_**TRIX'S POV**_

**What a strange dude… **I thought to myself. **Well, it takes all kinds, right?**

_**Author's Note:**_

**Yes, that was the end of this chapter. If you were on a DSi or other device that disables text effects (like bold, underlining, italic), I apologize, and suggest that you re-read on a computer before submitting a review on how hard it was to understand.  
>Now, my next order of business; as I write this AN, I have no idea what to call this story. I apologize for any crappy name I may have used by the time I've published this first chapter. Also please note that I haven't copied ANYONE, as far as I know. Trix is based (very loosely) off of me. You'll find out later what happened to her father…spoiler alert, it didn't happen to mine. He's alive and well. As is my stepfather, my mother and my stepmother. I am an only child, always have been. Closest thing I have to a sibling is the miscarriage my mother suffered before I was even thought of. Anyways, I'm not as crazy as Trix, but, well, she and Nny have to have SOMETHING in common. Oh! Should this be a Nny x OC or should I end it here? Should it be an innocent (ha…innocent in JTHM, hee-hee) rambling? Is this terrible? I realize Nny probably isn't quite as in-character as he should be, but, well, this is my first time writing for him. Problem? Don't care.**

…**I'm going all over the board here, but the germ phobia is also based off of me…I'm a mild hypochondriac. It's getting worse lately. **

**Anyways, review please. If it's cruel, I'm sending the not-moose after you. *Evil laugh* **


	2. Just another encounter

**Quick Author's note: Yeah, I've been working on this since I published chapter 1. If you're a homophobic jerk wad, don't even bother reading any more. Serge will be a large part in this chapter, maybe even the entire story. THIS IS BEING CONTINUED! NO ONE HAS THE NEED TO USE THE FORCE! :P**

Sure, being antisocial isn't the best way to make friends, especially as a kid, but somehow I managed to make and keep **one.**

"Ok, Trix, I just drove halfway across the state to see you today, we are doing something. I'm only here for a week before your orientation."  
>Ok, you're probably wondering who the heck that was. My best friend since, well, the first month I was around (no, really, our parents were inseparable (his mother was 2 years older)), Serge.<br>If you're wondering about Orientation, well, I'd been here for about 3 months, and it was now September. I had barely submitted my application to the University in the next town over (about a 30 minute drive both ways) on time, and was accepted immediately. My bedroom had finally been finished, I'd talked to Sq- I mean, Todd… About the window to find out that his parents really didn't care as long as it was paid for.

My run-ins with Johnny hadn't improved much. Give me a break; I only used the spray about 20 out of 30 times… What? He was freaking me out! Anyways, back to the conversation.  
>"Serge, we ARE currently doing something. We're having a conversation. In person." I sighed. Serge had my best interests in mind, but, well, being pretty much my polar opposite, he was plain annoying most of the time. And the fact that he stole the only boyfriend I ever had…But I'm not bitter. They were so much better for each other anyway. We had so much more in common when we were in grade school. I wished everything could go back to that. I wished I could be my tiny 8-year-old self with curly blackish-brown hair that went past my waist, my mouth which contained any dentist's nightmare (and a HUGE under bite)… Before my mind snapped.<br>"Hello? Trixie?"  
>I was snapped from my thoughts by the gay prep sitting on the other side of my bed.<br>"Sorry." I grumbled  
>"You know, why do I even bother? You never listen to me anyways! You never have any clue what I'm saying. You're always there, in your little fantasy world, probably riding some magical stinking unicorn. You know what, Trixie? I wait until I'm ALONE before I ride my Pegasus! Notice how much more popular I always was?" he ranted in his usual way. I could barely hold back my giggles. No matter what, Serge always had a way of making me laugh…he usually didn't intend to, but he did.<br>"OH! Now you're laughing at me! Ask anyone, everybody loved me in high school, Trixie! You always frikken zone out, and I wait until I'm alone!" I held back another smirk as he yelled this.  
>"Are you even listening to me, Trixie? You aren't usually! You're sitting there LAUGHING! What? Remember one of your favorite DANE LOOK jokes? This is not online! Trixie, this is reality! We are doing something SOCIAL tonight. Where's the closest karaoke club?" he ranted some more.<br>"Listen, Serge, you've made your point. I need to listen. We'll do something at some point when you're here. Okay?" I laughed.  
>"No. We're going someplace every day andor night this week."  
>"No we're not."<br>"Yes we are."  
>"No."<br>"Yes."

…I think you get it. This went on for a long time. Even with my stubbornness, Serge still won. That night I was forced to go to a karaoke club.  
>Neither of us knew at the time, but my life would be sent into a bigger spiral, spinning harder than it ever had before.<p>

***3 hours later***

"Dude, come on…Serge, is this really necessary? We could just go out and have fun, and I'll pretend to be someone out to have fun. Do I really have to dress the part?" I asked in an embarrassingly whiney voice.  
>"Ugh" he growled "You may hate me now, but trust me, you're gonna look amazing. Now stop talking, I'm moving on to your lip gloss." He added, sounding like his happy self. He had forced me into a dress (and man was I horrified. I looked ok…you know, if I was a prep like who Serge hung out with most of the time), heels and was doing my makeup. My usually straightened hair was the only thing that looked normal about me (which made it look red-ish. No, really. If I were to run into someone I only saw at night (like Johnny), I wouldn't be shocked if I wasn't recognized). I didn't wear makeup, dresses or, well, heels. I just couldn't pull it off for various reasons. Makeup: Eczema would often react (not to mention that I could feel it on my face). Dresses: I feel way too exposed! And heels…well, I'm a klutz!<p>

Serge gasped. "Trixie, you look amazing!" he gushed. I opened my eyes, stood up and looked in my full-length mirror. Sure, I looked pretty good, I had to admit, but I didn't look like…myself.

The dress went to just above my knees, was black with a cream coloured ribbon and a sequined top. The heels were white, open-toed (with quite a few straps) and about 6 inches high. My makeup was the opposite as I would have wanted. My eye makeup was dark purple, and the eyeliner was black, with pale pink lip gloss and a small amount of foundation.

"What? No 30 pounds of mascara?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.  
>"Oh shoot, did I forget that?" he asked, not catching my…well, sarcasm.<br>I sighed. This was gonna be a _long_ night.

****  
>Well, to keep it short, I met a guy there, Serge forced me to sing, and we arranged to meet with Jasper (the guy I met, genius) the next night at some mascaraed thing Serge knew about for months. (I'm certain that he's been planning this for a year just to torture me.)<p>

"Serge, I know you're rich and all, but you really don't have to do this. I mean, I'm never gonna wear any of these things after you're gone."  
>He smirked at this. I was currently trying on yet another strapless gown, this one floor-length and also black. He had already made arrangements for me to get some fancy updo, AND he was buying me ANOTHER pair of heels.<br>"Just…do me a favor and tuck the tags." He said with a nervous giggle. I laughed.  
>"With pleasure." I replied.<br>"Okay," he said after paying for the dress "now let's go. Your appointment is in 5 minutes."  
>"We have 5 minutes to make it across town?" I half-yelled. This guy was insane…not ME insane, but…Oh, you know what I mean!<br>"Yes. 4 now that you're done ranting." He glared jokingly.

We made it in the nick of time. It looked pretty good, as much as I refused to admit it out loud, but yeah, it was ok.

"Okay, these are so you." Serge gushed, the second we walked into the door of the local PayMore.  
>"Well, as me as 8-inch heels can be." I snapped. He was starting to get on my nerves. We were using a whole day of shopping (insert cringe here) to go to some social (insert another clichéd cringe) event.<br>The heels were (you guessed it) black, with straps. No clue what to compare them to, but they were elegant, rather simple (for these type of heels, anyway).  
>"Can we just buy them and get out?" I asked.<br>"Fine."  
>We walked up to the counter. A blond cheerleader-type girl was at the counter.<br>"This is it?" she asked, sounding slightly disgusted.  
>"Yes." I replied, even more annoyed than I had been before. The phone next to her rang. She looked at us before answering it.<br>"PayMore. We'll empty your wallet." She answered, sounding unnaturally perky. I looked at Serge. He appeared too happy. He was bouncing (literally) and whistling. I envied him. Even in high school, when he finally came out as gay (11th grade) and everyone was tough on him (I think I was the only one who remained indifferent, or maybe I was happier. He didn't have to lie about himself anymore. Lucky.), he managed to remain as happy as could be.

"Omg, girl, text me the deetz!" the girl squealed into the phone. I snapped my fingers a few times to get her attention. Once she looked up I pointed at the shoebox. She covered the bottom of the phone.  
>"Uh, don't be rude, can't you see I'm on the phone here?" she asked, and I must say, her voice was extremely squeaky and annoying. Serge shook his head at me. Was I socially handicapped?<br>Well, that girl talked for, what seemed to be hours. We finally got out of there at 6:30 pm.  
>"Oh no! We're gonna be late!" Serge squeaked. I rolled my eyes.<br>"Great work, Sherlock. Let's just get back to my house and wait for Jasper. I need to get dressed…Wait! What're you gonna wear?" I asked. Neither of us had really thought about him.  
>"Oh shoot, um, I'll meet you there. You have a mask, right?"<br>"Yeah, but won't it be busy or something?"  
>"Yes, but I'll manage."<p>

…

Needless to say, Jasper's car pulled up just as I slipped the white mask onto my face.  
>"Serge, hey! Why aren't you dressed?" he asked as Serge opened the door.<br>"I'll be meeting you guys there." He responded.  
>"Hey, ready to go?" I asked, walking down the hall, wanting to get the hell out of this place.<br>"Yeah," he smiled. "Let's go."  
>And with that, I stepped out into the September air, into his car.<p>

We stopped at the local hotel. While the place sucked, they had a pretty nice ballroom. I'd stayed here with my mother during Christmas many times as a child, visiting the place I was now confined to until I was recovered.

The ballroom was filled with masks, dresses, arguments, friendly conversations, and couples sucking face. I wondered where we'd fit into later on. I was starting to get a little overwhelmed after he had introduced me to nearly every crowd, all of them seeming to know him well. I excused myself to the washroom.

I pulled out my cell phone.  
><em>[1 new text from Serge]<em>  
>I opened it.<br>"_Hey, sorry, something came up here! I may not be able to make it, but have fun! Be, you know, social! Get out of the washroom; that's the only time you'd probably be reading this."_

I laughed and closed my phone. I decided to put it in my bra (and adjusted it so that it wasn't visible); I knew my purse wasn't very secure while I was at such a crowded event, and my phone had to be the most valuable thing I had with me. I hadn't brought my gun, mace, bear repellent or any large amounts of money. I didn't think I'd need them.  
>I was wrong.<br>**[A/N: No, don't worry; I'm not leaving you hanging. But Disclaimer: I stole this from the beginning of Britney Spears' 'Criminal'. I do not own Britney or her song. If I owned Britney, she would release "monster".]**

I stepped out of the washroom to see a tall girl (of course, she HAD to be tall! Nothing I could compete with, either. She was beautiful!) Flirting with Jasper, MY date. I walked straight up to them, trying to keep myself calm. My anger-management wasn't exactly my best quality.  
>"Not working the street corner tonight, I see?" I said, as snarky as I could, to the girl.<br>"Trixie, come here for a moment." Jasper growled, before grabbing my arm too hard for me to even try to struggle. He pulled me out the back door, into the alleyway behind the hotel. Of course, I didn't know this until later, having my eyes locked on him, being terrified out of my wits. I wouldn't be able to defend myself and run- not in these heels!  
><em><span><strong>Nny's POV<strong>_

I was doing well so far tonight. I hadn't killed a single person yet. There was only one hotel in the city, and it was terrible, from what I'd heard. I remembered some articles as I walked past. I was distracted by yelling. I looked around. I shrugged, knowing it was probably just some pimp and a hooker. I didn't know what, but something drew me towards the back of the building. I decided to follow that urge- it usually lead me astray.

I turned the corner to see a short girl with reddish brown hair, wearing a mask that appeared to be a crescent moon, being abused. I could see a terrified look in her eyes, even from where I was standing.  
>"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DEALING WITH? I AM JASPER SWIFT! YOU'RE JUST SOME GIRL I PICKED UP AS A LAST MINUTE DATE!" he screamed at her before punching her across the face. She toppled over. He picked her up and forced his lips to hers. She tried to struggle, but she appeared to have hurt her arm. I didn't want to, nor did I have to, but I stepped in.<p>

I walked towards the duo, pulling the knife out of my pocket. The man had his back to me at this point. I simply raised my weapon and forced it into his back. I pulled it out and submitted it back in repeatedly. The girl stared at me, her dark eyes full of wonder.

**[A/N: Yup. That's it. Finished at 11:56 pm, December 25****th****, 2011. It won't be Christmas for much longer. I wish you a happy holiday, though it will probably be a belated wish by the time this is re-published.  
>Good night, happy holidays, and I wish you the best in the New Year of 2012 if I don't update by the 31<strong>**st****. Hopefully the rapture hasn't passed by this time next year.**


	3. Why can't I just do I do it already?

**[A/N: Last chapter was submitted the second that boxing day came. I didn't open this new document even a moment later. It is now 12:01 am. Not that you probably care. Luckily though, this chapter takes place not a moment after we left off. Of course, it's back to Trix's point of view, but it's better than last chapter, which didn't take place until months after their meeting.]**

I could barely process what had just happened. I had been assaulted, physically and sexually, and a familiar man had just waltzed up and stabbed him in the back until Jasper passed out from hypoglycemia (or blood loss, for those of you who have no clue what I just said). I should have known who the man was, now that I think about it, but HELLO? I was in shock! Was the world spinning? Was I spinning?  
>"Well, obviously the world's spinning." The man smirked.<br>Oh. I guess I was speaking out loud.  
>"Yes. You are."<br>The world went black (well, blacker. It was pretty dark to begin with, being in an alley in the dead of night) not seconds later.  
>…..<p>

I woke up in a dark room. I looked around. Even if I could barely see, I knew that I was alone. I flicked a few strands of hair from my face, remembering what had happened. I realized that my mask was gone. I looked around me, just to frown. Did I honestly expect to be able to see a mask, which was primarily black, in a dark room?

I stood up. Well, that was a mistake. I fell right back down.  
>"Ow, what the-?"<br>I passed out for the second time in my life.

…..

This time the room was bright enough to see my hand in front of my face. I looked around, trying to identify where I was. The floors looked…less than clean, to say the least. Not to mention that they were bloodstained. The walls looked like they'd crumble in the next wind- and what colour were they? I had no clue. I looked for my phone. My jaw dropped- had the guy who saved me been in my **bra?** Nope. I found my phone in the other cup. I wanted to see if I could call someone- anyone- for help. I groaned. Battery died. Perfect. I slammed it on the ground.  
>I stood up and tried to open the door. After struggling with it, I finally opened it a crack. I looked out to see the familiar man. He was tall and too thin to be healthy. I took a deep breath and stepped through.<br>"Hello?" I asked, my voice shaking.

The man turned. Nny. Of course.  
>"Oh, hello…" he said, hesitantly.<br>"…Where am I?" I asked, with my voice stronger and angrier than before. This guy took me out of a dark alley and brought me **here**!  
>"My house." He replied<br>"…Well, thanks for saving me back there. Can I…go now?"

"Well?" I asked, annoyed by his silence. He shook his head.  
>"Why not?" I glared. Not that he noticed with his back now turned.<br>"I'm afraid I can't let you. I need your blood."

"Uhh…what?" I asked, holding back a nervous laugh.

_**Nny's POV**_

I was furious with myself. The monster probably was furious with me, too. I hadn't realized that with my not killing anyone the night before, I hadn't brought back any blood for the wall. I didn't **want **to kill her, but I knew what I had to do to protect myself.

"You see-" I tried to explain, but I was cut off.  
>"Couldn't you have just let him rape me? I mean, it would have been terrible, don't get me wrong, but it would be better than…this!" she screamed at me. "Do you have any clue how <strong>painful<strong> that's gonna be for me? And how about people? If anyone notices, it'll be Serge; you **really **don't wanna make **him** mad. Just please, just let me go!" she continued. I heard her voice crack a few times as if she wanted to cry. I didn't want to laugh until I was out of the room; but if I left, she'd surely escape.  
>"Come on, what have I ever done to you? Wait! Don't answer that…" she tried to reason with me. She cleared her throat. "I guess this is useless…" she told herself, quietly. As much as I may have hated her, it sucked to see her sad. Now I definitely had to kill her- she couldn't have emotions when dead, right? I took a step forward, raising the knife I held. She squeezed her eyes shut. I decided to kill her quickly; she hadn't done anything wrong…recently, anyways. I started to force the knife into her when I heard her voice.<br>"_**YOU SICK FUCK!" **_ She screamed. Next thing I knew I was on the ground. I wasn't passed out, but I sure was surprised.  
>"What the…? I can't move…" I managed to say.<br>"Yeah, I have the human's nerve system memorized. You should only be paralyzed for a little while." She smirked before crouching down next to me. She took the knife from my hand. She was about to kill me, but she stopped not a millimetre over my chest.  
>"Just do it." I heard her mumble to herself. "Do it you worthless bitch." She mumbled, even quieter. She looked at me. "I, um…I guess you're lucky. My…sociopathia must be… Uh…don't ask questions…I'm leaving now."<br>And with that, she ran out, slamming the door behind her.  
>"Wait a minute…" I said to no one in particular. "She took my knife…Oh well, I have plenty more."<p>

**[A/N]: *Claps* that was so cliché, I couldn't breathe! And it was short, too! So, now Nny has her phone and she has his knife. Will this set something up? …Probably not. It is January 2****nd****, 2012. I've been working on this for over a week and it's turned out terrible. That's just my luck, isn't it? And I can't promise next chapter to be any better, either. But oh well, deal with it…or don't. Just stop reading this altogether. I'm honestly doing this for my own amusement. But can you figure out why Trix didn't kill Nny when she had the chance? *Sigh* Do you even need a hint? Happy new year, again. I doubt that 2012 will be any better than 2011. Then again, it couldn't be worse, either. Wobbly-headed Bob is right, life is pointless. I need to go before I say something I'll regret. **

**~CynicalSquid~**


	4. Somewhat normal again

I nearly collapsed the second I got into my 'home'. That's when I realized that I wasn't alone. My raven-haired bestie came stumbling out of my room, half-naked. And he was wearing a shirt, I might add.  
>"DUDE! There are children here! And your best friend!" I shouted, absent-mindedly.<br>"OH! God, uh, sorry Trixie!" he giggled nervously, looking for something to cover up with. He found a dish-towel (why was it there? It's not like anyone washed the dishes or cooked in this household)  
>"Hey! HEYYY! How'd your date go, you little slut? I happened to notice that you weren't home all night long; I slept in your bed! So obviously you just got back…" he smirked, still holding the towel over his… Ok, do I really have to tell you? He was half-naked and wearing a shirt...<p>

"I…" I started, before realizing that I didn't want to tell him about…what happened…  
>"I'll tell you later, ok?" I lied, trying to put it off until he left or forgot. He walked out.<br>"I'm…gonna go put some pants on."  
>"Good idea." I sneered.<br>"And wash my bed sheets while you're at it!" I yelled after him.

I was alone now. I walked into the nearest bathroom, which was just across the front hall. I locked the door behind me. I looked in the mirror. Could Serge tell? **Could Nny tell? **  
>That's another thing about me. My emotions…suck. Not to mention that I've been afraid of 'love' since I was 13. It was my first crush. It was all of those annoying little things. "Butterflies", self-loathing…I hated it. It made me…ugh. It was on another one of my guy friends (well, he was Asher's friend, but we all hung out together). Of course, he had a slutty (seriously!) girlfriend, I was obsolete. I guess that I hated the feeling enough to turn it into a fear. But it could be rational- love makes you do crazy crap, goes wrong easily…There were a lot of reasons to hate it.<br>I was feeling it again. Why? It's not like I'd known this guy for long; 2 months!  
>Well, at least I was admitting this crap to myself. Too often I didn't until after I hurt them somehow. Maybe this would work itself out.<p>

God…no it wouldn't. I knew that. It would be too convenient, wouldn't it? I sighed and stepped out, hoping no one would notice that I had gone in for no reason at all. The front hall was still deserted. Of course, this didn't last for much longer. A fully-dressed Serge exited my room and smirked.  
>"Like what you saw?" he teased.<br>"Yes. I enjoy seeing my brother's junk on a regular basis." I replied sarcastically. You're either getting the metaphor or you're too stupid to function. Of course Serge isn't my biological brother, but he's like the brother I never had. Okay, I had a brother. I just never liked him.

"Well?" he asked excitedly  
>"Well what?" I replied, pretending I didn't know <strong>exactly<strong> what he was talking about.  
>"So you're out for the entire evening, your hair is a mess and you're wearing what you left in. How did your date go?" he responded, in a voice that seemed like a mixture of exploding with excitement and irritation.<br>"…Oh…that…um…" I realized that I hadn't thought of a good lie yet. I decided to give him what he wanted. Even being a virgin I knew the odds and ends of what he wanted to hear. I tried to hide my disgust as I told a fake story.  
>"So, you're in love with him. Am I right? Ohmigosh, I'm totally right, aren't I?" he squealed.<br>"No…I don't think I'll be seeing him again, Sergie." I tried to sound disappointed as I broke this piece of news. This part wasn't a lie at all. I wanted nothing to do with Jasper. Of course, I knew I'd see him again somewhere, sometime. It was just my luck.

My brother gave me his puppy-dog look. "Why noooooot?" he whined.  
>"I dunno, it was just a fling, no real emotions." I lied again. I felt terrible; Serge has been trying to set me up since we were 12. This was just another failure in his mind.<br>"I'll find him someday, just you wait Trixie!" He smiled at me. That's what I loved about my best friend; no matter what, you could never keep him down. Even when his homophobic parents kicked him into the streets, he was happy that he knew who he was, and was no longer stuck living with people so terrible and closed-minded, and that we became roommates (yes, we lived together for years. He moved out when he turned 19, though, to live with Gavin (his boyfriend/current fiancé/my ex) and **his** family, who was fine with homosexuality).

"There's little doubt in my mind, bro." I smiled. Sure, I had lied to him **again**, but I knew that the truth would kill him. This wasn't a conscience thing, but a…precaution. He hated the truth when it was terrible; you know, like most people.  
>"I'm gonna go shower, k dude?" I excused myself to the washroom. I was so glad to have the updo <strong>completely <strong>gone. It had been irritating me to no end. I let my tears wash into the chlorinated city water coming from the shower head. Why was everything going so wrong? I told myself to buck up. Everybody had crap to deal with in life, it was about time that I accepted mine and stopped whining about it. I changed into my usual black skinny jeans, long-sleeved black V-neck and blue knee-high converse. It was good to feel somewhat normal again.

**[A/N]: That had to be the most boring chapter ever. But don't worry; next chapter may be pretty funny. Maybe, maybe not. I have the storyline all planned out already. It probably won't be **_**exactly**_** identical to the preview, but that's just 'cause I'll probably forget the exact quotes. Aren't I nice? Giving you a preview and all?**

_**Nny's POV**_

I scanned the room. I had to try to be even quieter- Beatrix probably wouldn't be thrilled if she knew that I was here. The door cracked open. **Well, **I thought to myself. **Too late now…**

I turned, expecting to see the girl I despised, but was taken by surprise. A man (a great deal taller than I was; about 6'4") with raven-coloured hair and bright blue eyes stood before me, looking terrified. He opened his mouth to scream.

**[A/N]: YES! I am leaving you hanging on this one! Where's Trix? How will she respond to Nny? Will Serge pass out? Find out next time I update…whenever I'm done, lmao. **


	5. No clue what to call this chapter

**[A/N]: God, I haven't even started yet. I know what I want to do, but I can't figure out how. Frikken writers block. And I have no clue how things will play out after a certain point. Let's just say that little ol' Trixie won't be happy. In fact, if I get angry enough with writers block, I may have her kill Nny herself. I know it doesn't make sense now, but…it will. Wow, first time I wrote this sentence, there was a **_**major**_** spoiler. Don't worry; it'll probably all play out next chapter. In the meantime, enjoy this piece of crap I call a chapter.**

"So, what're you forcing me to do to night, Sergie?" I asked, trying (unsuccessfully) to get the brush through one of the huge knots in my long hair.  
>"Here, lemme get that." He offered, stepping behind me and taking the brush before I could protest. "And to answer your question, we're going to a club." He told me.<br>"Oh yeah, I forgot that you're legal now!" I laughed. He was 6 months younger than I was, it was easy to forget that we were the same age about half of the time (no, really. It _would _be half of the time. The year is 12 months…wait, did I have to say that?).  
>"Oh here we go with the young jokes. One more of those this week and I'm cutting to the short jokes." He scolded, jokingly. Just another difference between us, he was tall. Like, skyscraper tall. Over 6 foot. He told me once what his exact height was, but I forgot. I just remember that it was a line in a song.<br>"…_came without a wallet, so I had to shoot him dead. Don't you care about me anymore? Care about me? I don't think so…" _I mentally ran through the lyrics. I couldn't for the life of me remember what the height the singer said was **[A/N: cookie points to whoever can give me the name of this song, I used to love it as a kid]**.  
>"TRIXIE!" Serge screamed at the top of his lungs.<br>"What? What? What's on fire? Is someone in the house?" I panicked absent-mindedly. I'd been prone to panicking since I was a little kid.  
>"Nothing is on fire, and the only ones in the house are me, Todd and his parents." He rolled his eyes at me and spoke in a semi-calming tone. "You zoned out. And it's annoying."<br>"Oh! Right, the bar."  
>"Club, Trixie. A nightclub."<br>"Nightclub, whatever."  
>Where's the closest one? I know for a fact that at least one of us will end up drunk, we might as well be close as possible." He asked<br>"Uhh…you expect **me,** of all people to know this?" I smirked. Did he know me at all?  
>"Oh you suck. I'll go look on MapQuest." He sighed.<br>"Oh! And try to go easy on the porn; I've heard it slows down your internet!" I yelled after him, jokingly.

*****Later that night*****

I was dressed in my usual attire. It was nicer going out without having to get dressed up. Serge strutted up to me, holding a bottle of beer.  
>"Don't you usually get a cocktail or something?" I questioned him, knowing that he hated beer.<br>"Yes, and I'm about to. This is yours." He smiled, handing me the bottle. I hated alcohol in general. Like Gene Simmons always said, 'it tastes like drinking stale mouthwash' (or something along those lines). I stared at it in disgust.  
>"Drink up. How do you expect to fit in at your new school?" he pressured me. This was silly; I thought that I was done with peer pressure when I left high school, never being drunk or high in the process. And tobacco-free too.<br>I guess that I was sort of a goody-two-shoes when it came to this… and it couldn't hurt…I mean, we didn't have to drive here, or obviously we wouldn't be driving back. And I was under a lot of stress (more than most people would realize)…I cracked open the bottle and guzzled back a few sips. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Of course, I had only tried it once at age 5 (I was at home and my parents were supervising…they knew I would hate it!).

I was soon drunk. Yes, I'm ashamed of myself, but I was reassured that I was remained calm, even drunk. Sure, I put my foot in my mouth (metaphorically. How flexible would I have to be in order to do that standing up?) A few times and passed out on my bed the second I entered my room.

_**Serge's POV **_**[A/N]: Wow, that's new…**

I pulled a blanket over my friend. She was better behaved then I thought she would be when drunk. I walked across the hall to the bathroom. I'd had a few, sure. But I wasn't drunk! I was tipsy! The light killed my eyes, though. I noticed that the window was unlocked. Even dru- **tipsy,** I knew that wasn't good. So I locked it…after struggling for a moment- how functional do you think I was while under the influence? I walked back to Trixie's room and laid down on the air mattress on the other side of the room.

_**Knock, knock…**_

My eyes snapped open. What the _heck_ was _that?_ Probably just a hallucination due to alcohol. I shrugged it off.

_**CRASH! CRASHCRASHCRASH!**_

Ok, that was a little suspicious. I didn't wanna wake up Trixie; she was drunk and probably would end up even more violent than usual. I stayed on the mattress, too scared to move.

_**Step…step…**_

Aw God, now I heard footsteps in the washroom. I had to check it out. I forced myself out of my temporary bed and into the hall.

_**Nny's POV**_

I scanned the room. I had to try to be even quieter- Beatrix probably wouldn't be thrilled if she knew that I was here. The door cracked open. Well, I thought to myself. Too late now…

I turned, expecting to see the girl I despised, but was taken by surprise. A man (a great deal taller than I was; about 6'4") with raven-coloured hair and bright blue eyes stood before me, looking terrified. He opened his mouth to scream.  
><strong>[AN]: Seem familiar? Lol**

"Shhhh!" I shushed him quickly. I was uncharacteristically scared of Beatrix at the moment. But also confused, I wanted to talk to her about what happened, but I don't think she'd take too kindly to being woken up by some dude screaming.

"Who are you?" he half-yelled, half-whispered.  
>"My name is Johnny. But you can call me Nny." I sighed. "And you are?"<br>"Serge." He responded, eying me suspiciously. I noticed that he was about as pale as I was. Nothing important just thought I'd mention it.  
>"…And what are you doing here, Serge?" I asked<br>"I'm here to spend the week with my friend, Trixie." He answered nervously. Trixie. I held back a laugh.  
>"…what, don't care why I'm here?" I asked. Usually someone would ask that by now.<br>"I'm afraid to ask." He told me, sounding terrified.  
>"Don't worry; I'm just here for some bactine. This is a usual routine for me. Usually I'm arguing with Beatrix by now. She must have said <strong>something <strong>about me." I joked. I knew she probably wouldn't have. (**[A/N]: Yeah, I had no clue what to have him say, don't freak out.)  
><strong> 

"Uh, why don't you just get your sanitizer and get out?" he offered nervously.  
>"Uh…thank you." I hesitated- why had I stayed longer than I needed to <em>again?<em> I kind of waited for him to notice the window. I'd had to break it again; I was guessing it had been him who'd locked it.  
>He gasped. Finally. "What happened to the window?"<br>"I had to break it; I noticed it was locked." I told him "I'll pay for it, don't worry."  
>"Uhh…" he hesitated.<br>"Later!" I threw over my shoulder to him, hopping out the window.

**[A/N]: Yes, yes, this was also terrible. But trust me, things WILL get interesting soon. Trust me. Just do.  
>I have no clue what to say right now, lol. Short AN for once. :P**


	6. Hung over

I mentally cursed my friend. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have been in that extreme state of pain.  
>"…Serge? What did I do last night?" I managed to ask. There was no way that I hadn't done anything extremely embarrassing while intoxicated. He looked at me.<br>"Well, you tried pot, loved it, punched the dealer in his…painful area… and ran away, you had a threesome that I had to drag you away from in order to get you back here and, well, there are certain things you probably don't wanna know."  
>I groaned. "Are you <strong>serious?" <strong>I asked.  
>"Nope."<br>"…What?"  
>"No. I am not serious."<br>I let this sink in for a minute, having a hard time processing thoughts without wanting to die. That's when it hit me.  
>"You jerkwad. What did I do?" I moaned.<br>"Nothing, really. You said some crazy crapola, but that's about it." He told me. I sighed, relieved. He gave me a nervous glance. "And, uh, do you know a…Johnny?" he asked, stammering a few times.  
>"Yes, yes I do." I responded, hoping he wasn't thinking of who I was thinking of.<br>"Creepy, pale, scrawny dude? Apparently breaks in often?" he asked again, making sure we were on the same page. Crap. I was hoping that we wouldn't be.  
>"Yeah, he's our neighbor…I don't like him much." I wasn't technically lying. I did hate him…but at the same time… <em><strong>NO, SNAP OUT OF IT! <strong>_I internally screamed at myself. It wasn't just me that my mind screamed at. As cliché as it sounds, I yelled that to my 'heart', too (technically, your heart isn't what controls your affection towards someone, it's a trick of the mind and a feel-good something-or-other the brain releases…I couldn't remember, being… hung over)  
>"He was here last night. He broke the…he broke the window"<br>I felt rage boiling inside me. I completely forgot about the pounding in my head.  
>"He was here?" I all but screamed.<br>"Yes! He was!" Serge told me in a squeaky, terrified voice. I'd only lashed out and hurt him a few times in our lives, but it was enough to scare (**a/n: not scar, scare!) **him for life. Of course, it scarred him too…there was a small whiter line under his chin from when he stole Gavin from me and I hadn't cut my nails for a while… they get quite sharp after a few days. (But since I started cutting them obsessively and taking anger management, that couldn't ever happen again. Maybe I was just odd. Maybe I really did have a conscience. I could only hope.) I took a deep breath and calmed myself down.  
>"…What did he say?" I asked; I know there was still anger detectable in my voice, but I knew it was better.<br>He told me pretty much everything he remembered. I had to keep myself from punching a hole in his perfect skull. That was another thing about Serge; he could be a male model. Honestly, if he wasn't like a brother to me, I'd probably be falling all over him like most girls did.  
>"Serge…I didn't go home with Jasper…I think Jasper may be dead…" I confessed. If Serge was going to know anything, he was going to know everything. He gave me a shocked expression. I sighed and told him the rest of the story.<br>Clearly he didn't drag me out for a while.

That night, we stayed awake so I could…have a word with Nny.

**[A/N]: Just you wait my pretties… sure, this chapter's another boring one, but things are starting to come together in my devious mind. Although, I must ask, how old do you think I, the author, am? I'm interested to see what age group you'd place my writing in. Am I an idiot 12-or-13-year-old (no offense 12-year-olds or 13-year-olds, but writing tends to be cliché without realizing it at this age group), a creepy 30-year-old writing a younger version of myself… just curious. And please read and review my other JTHM story, "Monster". It's…honestly not as good as I suspected. I didn't even think about the ending as I wrote it. Or the middle. Just the line "His little whispers, 'love me, love me'" screamed "SQUEE!" in my mind. It's amazing that my obsession with that song still exists, writing that story for an hour with that song on loop. What's our little Trix gonna say to her enemy/love interest? Why might I have her kill him (although I have another idea for what happens in the portion I considered that for) off? And where's Todd? These questions may or may not be answered in the next little while. **

**~CynicalSquid~**


	7. It would be too convenient

"How do you…enjoy this?" Serge asked, horrified by the movie I'd pressured him into watching late that night. _Stab_ was easily one of my favorite horror movies since I was a little kid.  
>"How can you not?" I laughed. These people we so <em>stupid<em>! Obviously if you're trapped with the killer, you scream for help! You don't just crawl; just yell "FIRE!" and you're bound to get _someone_'s attention. And even then you'd be taking the cowards' way out instead of killing him yourself. We'd locked the bathroom window again so that we'd have more of a chance of hearing Nny break in…and I found it amusing to irritate him. No matter, I was angry with him.  
>That's when we heard the crash of shattering glass.<br>"That's him." I sighed.  
>"I'll…stay here." Serge told me. "I'm interested in this." He lied. I didn't care.<br>"Okay then." I replied before running out of the living room and to the bathroom door. That's when I realized that I'd forgotten anything to defend myself. I decided that I'd be fine as long as I remembered my memorization of the human nervous system. I flung open the bathroom door.  
>"Was my nearly killing you to subtle?" I nearly yelled, but growled instead. That's when I realized that I hadn't thought of what to say to him. I thought quickly. "Usually killing someone indicates that you want them to die." I continued. "And wanting them to die means that you never want to see them again. I should have stuck the knife through your thick skull." I ranted. His face played out many emotions. At first he was startled, and then surprised, followed amused, and then slightly nervous. I walked straight up to him and pushed him to the wall.<br>"And do I even wanna know where you go and why you need sanitizer nearly every night?" I asked, calming myself down as I did so. It didn't work very well. I wound myself up even more. I felt like I was about to explode. "You nearly killed _me, _and you think that you have the _right _to show up here again? The _nerve!"_ I couldn't even stop myself from screaming this. I knew that my uncle would be too occupied in his study, my aunt would be passed out on pills and my little cousin was probably already awake, laying there in bed, scared. It probably wasn't the most un-nerving thing for poor little Sq-** TODD! **To hear, but at least he'd know that he wasn't alone here.

"I can see how that could be seen as a bad thing, me trying to kill you." He said in an emotionless tone. "But the part of me that understands that is not the one running things in my little world." He added in the same way (**[A/N]: Did you notice that that was a real Nny quote?) **  
>"Oh? It could be bad? I hadn't noticed." I spoke harshly and sarcastically. I had calmed myself down. It had been hard, but I'd succeeded for the most part. "Look." I addressed him more seriously this time. "You're insane. You were gonna paint my blood on a wall; you need some serious help."<br>"Help? Li-"  
>I didn't let him finish. "Yes, help. Clearly I wasn't gonna be your first victim. Get help, or I'll bring it to you." I obviously wasn't gonna tell someone to help him; I rather enjoyed not being the most insane one in town. He grabbed the bottle of disinfectant and climbed out the broken window.<br>"HEY! You're paying for this again!" I screamed out into the night, but he was gone. I glared in the direction he'd went and made a mental note to bring it up the next time I saw him...since I knew that there was no way that he was leaving this place for good…that would be too convenient for me for it to happen in this world.

_**Nny's POV**_

I closed my door behind me. I had used the disinfectant on the short walk from my neighbors' house to mine; so the bottle was mostly empty. I passed the phone, plugged into the charger, which was plugged into the wall. It belonged to Beatrix. Well, the phone, anyway. The charger belonged to one of the people in the basement, who'd had the same phone and model, carrying the charger with them. I'd meant to return it to her, but…

**[A/N]: And writers block strikes for the umpteenth time since I started this chapter! But don't you worry…this is all falling into place…Just you wait. And if I ever call Serge "Asher", I apologize. He's just a copy of a character I have in one of my own stories and I sometimes confuse myself while writing him. I wrote yet another sort-of songfic for JTHM, it's called "Insane"…it's based off of Eminem's song "Insane". And I couldn't have screwed up any more than I did while writing it. Honestly! It's an epic fail! But read it anyways, lmao. **


	8. Uh oh!

I could barely believe that it had been a week (and by that, I mean I couldn't believe that it had **only** been a week) since Serge arrived. I mean, I loved him like a brother and all, but he was pushing me out of my personal boundaries…too much. But it was time for him to go back to New York City and back to Gavin. He'd be attending the community collage soon (Haha, see? My anti-socialness came in handy. I'm in university) and would probably be smart to go back to town.  
>"Serge, call me as soon as you get back!" I told him as he pulled me into one of his bone-crushing hugs.<br>"H-have fun in collage." Sq- **TODD! DAMMIT! **Told him, hesitantly.  
>"Aw, thanks little dude!" Serge smiled at him.<br>I watched my best friend leave the place I was forced to call my 'home'. Probably for the last time, considering what happened over the next few days.

_**Serge's POV**_

I stepped out of Trixie's new house. I started walking to my car (it was parked in a parking lot at the convenience store on the corner). The streets were pretty much deserted (not too odd, considering the fact that most people would be at work…well, other than the hobos crowding the streets) I finally turned that last corner and looked at the 7/11. I smiled. I'd been good about my eating habits; I could get a quick snack for the road. I walked in and nearly walked right back out. Standing **right** in front of the Brain-Freezies was that creepy neighbor dude, Johnny. Then I shrugged…I mean, there were a few others in there, too, plus the clerk (who, I knew would have a gun under the counter, as I was a clerk at a convenience store back home in high school); so I would be safe.

Or so I thought. Turns out the thing was out of order (by this I mean the Brain-Freezy machine. I think his brain's been out of order for a while, now).  
>"Sorry, bro. The thing's been busted all day." The awkward, pimply clerk told the scary man.<br>"…Oh…" The neighbor muttered. He sounded like he was gonna lose it or something. I shot a quick glare at him. Couldn't he get something else and leave, already? I…kind of forget what happened next. It's like…when you're hung over and have no clue what you did last night. It's just blackness when you try to remember. But no matter how hard I try, all I remember is passing out, and a lot of gore. I woke up…someplace different.

It was the place Trixie had described to me just a few short days ago, where she claims to have woken up. That scary neighbor guys' house.  
>"He-Hello? Is anyone…there?" I squeaked, terrified out of my mind. No response. I slowly walked forward, the floor creaking beneath me as I did. I made my way to the door and slowly turned the knob.<p>

**Dun, dun, duhhhhhhhh! Sorry this is so short, like, 500 words, but I had to do this quick update to get this out of my skull. THIS is what I've been planning for a LONG time! The reason for all of the short, bland chapters, the reason I had no clue what to write (well, no clue HOW to write it), and the reason for all of those fillers. Serge is now in Nny's house! Will Trix save him? Find out… Okay, I can't promise it soon, I have a bunch of HUGE writing projects (in French AND English) at school (I honestly have a HUGE speech to write this weekend), which is why I haven't updated in so long…and I'm lazy, too. And I'm now suffering from writers block once more… Yeah, I just wanted to get this out there, since I haven't updated in a long time… So, here we are.**


End file.
